J2 Don't Speak
by AndSoIWrote
Summary: Jensen is feeling the pressures from the panels and Jared is there for him, however, the course of their friendship is in the hands of Jensen when he realizes he's truly fallen for him. Both POVs. My first Jensen/Jared. M is mostly for language. Sex not overly detailed. Feedback is always awesome. :)
1. Prologue

The echoes of their hollers reverberated in his cranium hours after his last confrontation. Every feigned smile, every forced laugh and every last use of his lung capacity was channeled for a virtual reality. He couldn't help but wonder as they clicked away on their high-tech cameras, how the hell they managed to stoop so low in their so-called "career." The same went for every hyperventilating girl in the audience who tossed a bouquet on stage, or more often than not, underwear that could very well be mistaken for dental floss.  
Panels and conventions could only go so far until it was deemed as nothing more than suffocation.  
Jared caught the tinge of frustration buried inside him. Jensen was good at disguising his underlying ire, though Jared, being his best friend since the beginning of the series, could detect the symptoms easily. It practically seeped off him when his shoulders slumped and his eyes shifted to the carpet while he fiddled with his long fingers.  
He hated seeing him this way. It wasn't as if Jared was any better. There were times when he was jaded and felt it necessary to act upon it as well. The only difference was that he knew why Jensen was solemn: the relentless homosexual innuendos. Every time one of them so much as grazed shoulders, the ground would rumble like a stampede. It was a pipedream, obviously, and he grinned through every one; presenting himself for his fans, no matter how delusional they may be, was par for the course. He also adapted easier to a socially exerting schedule better than his costar.  
Now, as they lounge together on the couch in their living room watching a pre-tapped game, Jared broke the unremitting silence that hung between them. "Jen…" He nudged him lightly on the shoulder. "Jen, I think you should know I'm sleeping with Daneel," he kidded. No reaction. He would have to try harder than infidelity. "Hey, you drive your Impala, right? You know what they say about guys with big, fancy cars..." No response, not even a sign to of acknowledgement. "Fuck, how are you not up for an Emmy?" Jensen turned leisurely, a small but perceivable smile scattering his small brown freckles across his cheeks. Jared couldn't help smile as well.  
"There's that smile," he exclaimed before turning remotely serious. "What's wrong, man?" Jensen's smirk dissipated. He shifted slightly away from the taller man sitting close to him. It wasn't unusual that they sat so close together; it was unusual that Jensen would think it was. Jared respected the personal space principle, though remained persistent. "C'mon, man, talk to me." The older man craned his head to meet his friend's golden brown eyes. He was reminded of just how cunning he was. His long brown hair naturally swept back, exposing his pensive forehead, and touched down just enough to kiss his shoulders. His wide smile and sculpted jaw only magnified his features; these were the ones Jensen always found himself staring absently at. It killed him.  
"It's you," he responded hoarsely to both of their surprise.  
Jared knit his brows together; a notably confused gesture that Jensen was much too used to seeing. "Did I piss you off?" he asked carefully. They hardly ever had disputes. Both men were easily impressionable and knew everything about each other. This also came with each other's weaknesses. This happened to be Jensen's.  
"No," he replied gravely, turning away again.  
"Is it the panels?" he tried. He knew how specific Jensen had been, though this was his only shot at simulating his ignorance.  
"No."  
"Is it new father post-jitters? I can help you-"  
"No."  
"Dammit, Jensen," he mumbled, his patience running thin, "I want to know; help me help you, man."  
Jensen shook his head as if shaking off bad omens. "You really want to know what's wrong, Jared?" he asked irately. Jared swallowed hard. He seldom used his full name. The last memory he could recall was when they first met at the audition. He couldn't remember being more nervous about anything in his life, which said a lot for a man who _never _got nervous. He had taken up acting when he was twelve and ever since then, pursued it as a profession. Even when he auditioned for a minor role in the _Gilmore Girls_ (which he would land later on), he wasn't the least bit nervous albeit rehearsed until his throat was sore. When he read over the _Supernatural_ script, he wasn't exactly unfamiliar with the role as Sam, the younger, brooding brother. Jared had an older brother back home and clearly understood the rivalry and admiration that came along with brotherhood. No, it wasn't the character he was worried about; it was his opponent, the other man in the room: Jensen Ross Ackles. His first impression of Jensen was faintly cumbersome. Jensen was incredibly nice; it was his anatomical features that were intimidating. His jagged light brown hair arranged perfectly on his head, something Jared's hair took hours to do, his lips were plush, whereas Jared's were practically pencil thin, and his eyes were like nothing he had seen before: bright green with hazel flecks scattered arbitrarily around his pupils. He had never told him to this day how incredibly handsome he thought he was and how belittling it made him feel because the minute Jensen laid his eyes on Jared, he smiled warmly and outstretched his hand. "Hi, I'm Jensen." Jared eased a little; at least his vanity wasn't at an all-time high.

He shook his hand before scoping the room. "Jared. Where is everybody?"

"Looks like it's just you and me pal," Jensen replied, a small chuckle escaping his lips.

Ironically, Jensen would later confess to Jared that he thought he was "smoking hot." Jared couldn't help but smile. He saw the start of a beautiful, awkward friendship.

"I haven't exactly been honest with you lately," Jensen said slowly, initiating a formal approach. "There are some things I should tell you." He faltered for a minute. Those damn brown eyes. And to make matters worse, Jared wrapped a reassuring hand on his thigh. "I—I have... underlying feelings I'm not sure how to express," he stated shakily.  
Jared pursed his lips almost artfully. "Are you and Daneel having problems?"  
He rolled his eyes. "I think it would be better if I showed you," he stated finally.  
"Okay..." Jared sat perfectly still. Jensen exhaled before moving closer to his friend, sliding his calloused fingers across his smooth forearms until eventually reaching the nape of his neck. He took a moment; basking in possibly the last moment of their passive friendship, leaned in close enough to hear his accelerating heartbeat, closed his eyes and lightly pressed his lips to his. Jared's eyes fluttered a few times before closing as well. Jensen retracted cautiously, shifting his eyes to Jared's hand which was still on his thigh. He soundlessly wondered if he could sense his hands had elevated from his growing erection. The thought dissolved when Jared unwittingly grasped the back of Jensen's neck with his free hand, reeling him back into the contours of his body.  
This time his lips eased into Jensen's shamelessly and he could practically feel his heart surge. The smaller man looped his fingers through his jeans for support with one hand and ran his other through Jared's thick, disheveled hair before pulling back. "You know something?" Jensen added nonchalantly.  
Jared was still enamored with Jensen's emerald eyes that gleamed all the while he spoke. "What?"  
"You made me miss the game, asshole." Jared laughed. Jensen didn't always say much and when he did it was oftentimes the one thing he needed to hear most.


	2. Part I

**24 Hours Earlier**

"And I said, 'Fuck, Jen, I swear if I trip I won't be going down solo." Miscellaneous mirth occupied the rented space. Jared was too immersed in his own laughter to notice Jensen staring musingly at him. It was a comical sight, seeing a grown man red-faced, drowning in his own degradation. The audience, many of which were young girls, was infatuated with the man's story as they bounced on their heels, anticipating the next portion. Jensen couldn't help but widen his smile; Jared had a certain charm he cast on girls that made them swoon hysterically. He was almost a hundred percent certain that their panties probably wet at the mere sight of Jared pushing back his brown tresses. He would never understand women, even with one back home. "No, I know that he was deliberately trying to get into my pants."

Then again he would also never understand Jared Padalecki.

"That's not—" Jensen's microphone cut out just as he was about to interrupt the moose of a man. "Did you—?" Jared only laughed harder. He reminded him of Macaulay Culkin in Good Son; Jensen had always treated his friend with the upmost respect in and outside their workplace environment. Jared, in return, being the large menace child he was, played unusual and unsuspecting jokes and somehow everyone still loved him.

Jared stood up, fawning over his prank. "Thank you, I'm here twenty four seven." He bowed for recognition which only made the crowd roar louder.

Jensen decided to play along. He darted out of his seat, grabbed Jared's microphone while he was still absorbing the energy of the throng, and yelled, "Looks like you're not the only one who can be spontaneous!" Jared spun on his soles, glancing down at his empty hands and to his friend, a bemused look plastered on his face. Jensen winked slyly. Then for some reason, this only made the younger man laugh even harder. Before he could question Jared reached into his jean pocket and pulled out something loosely familiar to Jensen. It was a long black strip with small holes embedded in the leather.

Oh God.

And his last shred of dignity fell to the floor. Lights whirled around his realm of perception and many women hurdled at the chance to witness such an event, violently clawing their nails into the security guards. "Ladies and… ladies," Jared exclaimed robustly, "that's what you call spontaneous."

O-O


End file.
